Routine was important to a child's development, Lady Anagharad believed. Especially one that was destined to become the Pendragon and savior to all of dragonkind. Therefore, Aideen Llewellyn lived and breathed by the pace of the antique clocks around the house and the little clock around her wrist. 

It all started at six in the morning. With the herald of her alarm clock, she sprang out of bed like a tightly-wound coil, eager to seize the day. She threw open the doors to her claw-footed wardrobe and pulled out the outfit on the hanger that had been prepared on Sunday after laundry had been concluded. 

Then it was time to shower, to style her hair. She wanted to show off her blonde curls to their best advantage, while keeping any stray locks from getting in her face. A leader had to look her best, after all. It would command the proper charisma. And Lady Anagharad supposed the social arena of high school teenage girls was as good a test as any for practicing one's charisma. She also checked her outfit in the full-length mirror to ensure that every angle was flattering.

They'd had somewhat of an argument about Aideen's clothes last summer. The clothes that had been cute, adorable when she was nine or twelve or so were considered childish now, in their bright colors and nostalgic motifs. But Aideen had fought to keep the clothes that reminded her of the magical girls she'd looked up to throughout her childhood. It was a reminder of who she was outside of the Pendragon Princess. 

She'd have to give it all up eventually. Lady Anagharad never let her forget that.

Her upbringing in the human world was temporary, as ephemeral as the people who lived there. Once she ascended and became the Pendragon she was always meant to be, an immortal dragon queen, it would be like a distant summer, nostalgic and warm, but all too short and gone too fast. 

But for now, Aideen would enjoy the last days of her girlhood, in brightly-colored clothes with strawberries on them and cute little cartoon mascots, and she would hide away from the world in her candy-colored room in a mountain of plushies. 

She huddled on the chaise she covered with a chartreuse and white checked blanket with the latest volume of her favorite shoujo manga, where she could immerse herself in the adventures of magical girls in love. 

She supposed that Lady Anagharad had encouraged Aideen's infatuation with magical girls and princess stories because it was a perfect set of role models. But what Lady Anagharad didn't know or understand was that part of why Aideen liked these stories so much wasn't just their similarity to her own life, but the connection these girls had—with their friends, with their boyfriends. 

Most dragons by nature were solitary creatures. Lady Anagharad had told her of the days in which she was a girl, when the Progenitors had created Agartha but the last great dragon hunts had not yet begun. It was then that Agartha was more of a place for the dragons to gather in times of celebration and great sadness—it had not become both home and exile alike yet. Then, the dragons like Lady Anagharad lived in their own grand estates all over the world and only met rarely. 

Aideen supposed she had too much of her father's family's human blood. 

She got up—only ten minutes or so before she would be expected to join her grandmother in the breakfast nook downstairs. She approached her desk. On it was a pink desk calendar, the framed pictures of her parents, and two lilac envelopes addressing the other two princesses in golden ink.

Aideen was to give these to them today—the beginning of lessons that Lady Anagharad would give all of them. Lady Anagharad had grumbled about it the night before, and then it was easy for Aideen to want to defend them, to see the other girls as potential friends and kindred spirits.

But seeing the envelopes and the impending task made it more real, more eminent. 

Aideen was no longer the only Princess of Agartha. She never had been. 

And the crown of Pendragon was no longer hers by birthright. 

She knew she would have had to pass the Trials by Fire to end the curse no matter what. Besides, it wasn't the way of the dragons to merely accept a new ruler without proving their worthiness. 

Her stomach flipped. The Trials by Fire were a secret kept by the Council of Crowns, in an ancient tome that she as an aspiring candidate was not allowed to read. Before, she had been sure she would pass them, break the curse, and ascend to her destiny.

But the one little wrench in all of it, in the appearances of Lila and Kira, had thrown it all off-track. The great clock by which Aideen ran her life had been shattered. 

Lady Anagharad insisted that rigidity and routine was what a child who would grow up to rule over all of dragonkind would need. 

But what happened when everything changed?

Aideen was surprised at her own sullenness. This was an un-princesslike attitude. 

A blonde curl had somehow strayed from her ribbons. She tucked it back and slipped the invitations into her messenger bag and wondered when she had become so unhappy. 

Lila woke not to the sound of her alarm, but her ringtone. She groaned as she sat up—had she really forgotten to switch it off last night? 

Caller ID said it was unfamiliar, from out of state. 

She was just about to decline when she remembered—Kira!

"Hello?" 

"Oh hey Lila, sorry, did I wake you?"

Lila let out a small sigh of relief that she'd been right. Then she frowned and checked the time. "Kira, it's five-thirty. No one should be awake at five-thirty."

"Oh." There was a pause following her surprised tone. "I get up at five every morning. I can never sleep for a very long time."

Lila pinched the bridge of her nose. "I meant, why are you calling me now?"

"Well, I was wondering if you wanted to stop at a cafe before school, so we could talk about this whole dragon thing." Kira paused again, and her voice dropped low. "Without Aideen."

"Why without Aideen?" Lila wasn't opposed to the idea— just merely curious.

"Look, she grew up in that world, and we didn't," Kira said. "I don't think she sees the parts that suck about this."

"So we're starting a support group for dragon princesses?" When had her life become such a joke?

"I mean, yeah." Lila thought she could hear Kira's shrug over the phone.

Lila stood up and approached her closet. "Where are we meeting, then?"

"Um, I was thinking of the one like two blocks from the school—"

"You mean the Morning Roost!" Lila paused and nestled the phone in-between her neck and shoulder as she opened the doors to her closet. "What about the Cozy Cup? It's a little closer to school."

"I think I know where that is." There was another long pause. "Yeah, I know where that is. When do you want to meet me there?"

Lila stared at the row of pastel clothes staring back at her, unsure of the mood for today. "In like, forty minutes."

"Cool, I'll see you then!" Kira hung up before Lila could reply.

Lila put her phone down and sighed. It was admittedly a risk having Kira come here to talk about dragon stuff. But she also wasn't going to redirect her new friend to one of her mom's competitors. That would be in bad taste.

Now there was the matter of her wardrobe. . .